“What are you waiting for?” he inquired, “jump.”
I take a look at the busy streets far down before me. Fear strikes, and I thought this was just a dream. Yes, we ran through dimensions, moving circularly. We passed through distortions; expansions and reduction. White, red, black and mosaic rooms–we proceeded and left them all behind effortlessly.
Now that we end up on the rooftop of a building reminiscent to my childhood home, I am not as daring.
Perhaps it is the sense of familiarity to reality which escalates my hesitance. Suddenly, this realm doesn’t seem much like a dream.
“What if I did and died down there?” I asked him.
“You know what they say,” he replied, “‘you’ll only go as far as your faith can take you’. I believe those are the exact words.
I began questioning myself of the amount of faith I have, on where I should place it for assurance, or if any of that matters at all. I stepped back from the edge of the building, resigning as I consider my dwindled confidence. That was when he stopped me by putting his hand on my shoulders.
“What is it that scares you, child?” he slowly tightened his grip.
“Well, falling for one,” I told him, “and my life, obviously.”
“Didn’t we manage to go this far?” he turned me towards his gaze, “did you even doubt a second that we would be trampled by those walls before? Or trapped in any of those rooms?”
This certainly is no room. In fact, stepping at the grounds and being able to look at the walls weirdly made me feel far more secure than the prospect of it isolating me forever. But it is true, we made it unblemished up to now. Also, and I cannot reiterate too much, wasn’t this just a dream?
“You can still see the ground,” he said, as if he just peered through my head, “and you’ll be there in no time. Go, and release your fear once and for all.”
Surely, a dream is a dream. I could not miss out on the chance to do something I won’t and can’t do in real life. I took another glance at the view at the bottom. This time, I brought my feet to the verge again, steadied myself as I reached for his hand.
“Only if you come with me.”
He seem to understand. Quietly, he followed suit as he stood beside me and clasped my hand.
We close our eyes, felt the wind and took a deep breath.
We spread our arms, willing to let gravity take us down.
Suddenly I felt him grabbing my shoulder hard, and whispered, “You put your faith on the wrong man.”
He pushed me down, ruthlessly.
I realized iron doesn’t taste dreamlike.
A/N: I refuse to accept that I slept through Halloween because I was sick.
Here’s, albeit unsatisfying, an attempt to relive it.